


In Flagrante Delicto

by Rycolfan (Snarryeyes)



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:53:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarryeyes/pseuds/Rycolfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes there really is an innocent explanation...</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Flagrante Delicto

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written to accompany art of our guys in police mug shots, answering the question of how they got there. :)
> 
> This is a work of fiction. No offense is intended to those portrayed herein.

The club was heaving; hot, sweaty bodies packed the dance floor, grinding together in rhythm to the thudding beat of the music, and the air was thick with smoke and sexual chemistry. Just another night of partying in LA.

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough, Ry,” Colin laughed.

Ryan had just attempted to sit down on his chair and had missed it by several inches. He was now in a heap on the floor, still grasping his miraculously unspilt beer, wearing a confused expression. “The damn thing moved.”

“Of course it did,” Colin replied, petting his head soothingly. “Chairs are a menace to society.”

All of the guys had been there at the start of the evening, celebrating the end of another successful season, but their group had slowly dwindled down as the hours had passed and now it was just the two of them left, plus Greg. The latter returned from the bathroom and sniggered at Ryan’s undignified position on the floor; truthfully, he and Colin weren’t that much better off in the sobriety stakes but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to have some fun at his friend’s expense.

“While you’re down there, Ry…”

Ryan screwed his face up in disgust from his position on the floor. “In your dreams, Greg.”

“Always,” Greg smirked, swigging from his bottle. 

Colin quirked an eyebrow in his direction, his fingers lazily carding through Ryan’s hair. He didn’t say anything, but there was a definite air of possessiveness about the gesture, and Greg grinned inwardly. Like he didn’t already know exactly what they were up to.

Downing the remainder of his drink in a single gulp, Colin leaned down towards Ryan and spoke loudly over the music. “I think we should get you home.”

Ryan’s brow furrowed. “Already? We’ve only been here-”

“Five hours, Ry,” Colin cut across him, grinning. “When you can’t get up off the floor, it’s time to call it a night.”

“I can get up,” Ryan protested indignantly, making another attempt, but his legs refused to cooperate and he slipped, ending up sprawled across Colin’s lap. “I like this much better, though.”

“Okay,” Greg said, getting to his feet with hands raised, “I’m going before you two start dry humping in the corner.”

Colin shot him a look, although he seemed to be breathing a little more rapidly as Ryan squirmed on top of him. “You can’t go, Greg; I need you to help me get him home.” He was attempting to disentangle himself as he spoke, but Ryan was only holding on tighter, nuzzling into his crotch contentedly. “Cut it out, Ry.” His last words came out as little more than a squeak.

Despite the temptation to enjoy Colin’s discomfort a little longer, Greg took pity on him and hauled Ryan to his feet. He was immediately forced to take a step backwards as Ryan toppled heavily against him.

“Jesus, Ryan, for a big stick, you weigh a tonne.”

Ryan groggily flipped Greg a finger as Colin got up and wrapped an arm around his waist, supporting some of his weight. They managed to awkwardly maneuver their way to the exit, through the maze of tables and people, and pushed the door open. The cool night air sharpened their dulled senses slightly, and the loud music was reduced to a muffled beat as the door swung closed behind them.

“I can walk, you know,” Ryan protested, pushing himself away from Greg and Colin’s hold, and staggered further into the parking lot.

“He’s going to be difficult; isn’t he?” Greg sighed, watching with a mixture of exasperation and amusement as Ryan ricocheted off various cars in his path.

“He’s Ryan,” Colin replied simply, as if that explained everything. Well, it did, Greg thought idly as they both went after him. Ryan never took the easy route if he could help it.

Ryan was cursing repeatedly when they reached him, hitting his key and pointing it at a nearby car. “Why isn’t this working, dammit?”

“Because that’s not your car, Ry,” Colin laughed, steering him away, “and that’s your house key.”

A confused frown creased Ryan’s forehead as he peered at the key in his hand. “Where’s my car, then?”

“You didn’t bring it, dude,” Greg replied, propping him against a signpost while Colin went to look up and down the road for a cab. “Besides, I don’t think a DUI conviction is the best way to go.”

Colin stumbled his way back over to them, weaving slightly. “Looks like we’re walking.”

“Oh, man,” Greg slumped his shoulders; “that’ll take until dawn with captain clueless here.”

“That’s why I need you, Greg,” Colin chuckled, reaching out an arm to steady Ryan who was leaning sideways ominously, “but if we cut through the park it’ll be much quicker.”

“Yeah, if we make it out alive.”

Ryan slung an arm around Greg’s shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. “Come on, man; it’ll be fun!”

Greg resigned himself to the inevitable.

Most of the wide open expanse of the park was lost under a blanket of darkness; the only light came from the few streetlamps dotted along the main path, and the moon and stars above. It was, however, anything but peaceful, since Ryan had decided to sing a hoedown at the top of his voice. Greg couldn’t help but be a little impressed that he was still able to think it up so quickly, and make it rhyme… even if was an x-rated version about Dan, their British producer.

“… I will always hate him, so I will always mock… and if he doesn’t like it, then he can suck my coc-“

“Enough singing I think, Ryan,” Colin cut across him loudly, trying to contain his laughter. He nudged Greg’s arm and surreptitiously gestured towards the police car which he’d just noticed in the distance. The park was a notorious area for shady dealings of the drug variety, so it wasn’t surprising to see them patrolling the area.

“Oh, great, they can give us a ride,” Greg muttered sarcastically.

“Man, you’re a real bitch when you’re drunk,” Colin giggled.

“I’m not drunk enough to be easy,” Greg shot back, distracted somewhat by Ryan’s odd behaviour. “What the fuck are you doing, Ry?”

Ryan had staggered off the path, and was in the process of undoing his pants. Greg and Colin exchanged a look, glancing back at the cop car, and then simultaneously went to stop him. 

“Not a good idea, buddy.”

“But I gotta pee, dude,” Ryan whined, sounding more like a five year old than a grown man.

“I think there’s a restroom up ahead somewhere,” Colin said, attempting to guide Ryan back to the path with Greg’s help. “Let’s see if it’s open, okay?”

Luckily, they reached the restroom in only a few minutes, and it was unlocked. The three of them stumbled into it, Colin and Greg under the weight of Ryan whose legs seemed to have stopped cooperating again.

“I think we’d better sit you down for this,” Colin murmured, veering away from the urinals into the nearest stall. Greg stayed back--partly because there wasn’t really enough room, but mostly because some things went beyond the realm of friendship.

Ryan seemed to come out of his stupor when Colin started unfastening his pants, and a devious glint entered his eyes. Suddenly throwing himself forward, he trapped Colin against the wall and forcefully kissed him. Colin was so taken aback by the action that it took him a moment to come to his senses and attempt to push Ryan away, despite a very strong urge to continue.

“Cut it out, Ryan.”

When Ryan dived in again, Colin avoided his advances by sliding down the wall. He finally managed to get Ryan’s pants open, and pulled them down, intending to sit him down and escape, but Ryan apparently took his actions to mean something else entirely and pressed even closer.

“Greg!” Colin called exasperatedly. “A little help here.”

“Oh man, I haven’t drunk nearly enough for this,” Greg muttered, reluctantly moving forward to lend a hand.

The next moment, several things happened at once; Greg pulled Ryan off Colin and found himself trapped against the opposite wall of the cubicle, Colin lost his balance with the abrupt move and fell forward against Ryan’s crotch, and the door to the restroom swung open to reveal a cop brandishing a flashlight.

The cop shone the light into their cubicle, his eyes narrowing as he took in their respective and equally incriminating positions--Ryan with his pants around his ankles, Greg spooned behind him, and Colin on his knees in front--all of them looking like deer caught in the headlights. Keeping his flashlight on them, he plucked his radio from his belt.

“Jim, I’ve got a situation in the restroom. We’re gonna need two more patrol cars over here, pronto.” After receiving an affirmative, the cop moved forwards and grabbed his handcuffs. “Okay; fun’s over. I’m going to have to arrest the three of you for disorderly conduct. You have the right to remain silent…”

Greg opted to wave that right straight away. “I’m going to kill you for this, Stiles.”


End file.
